


these little town blues are melting away

by trebleclifford



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, O, and calums ceo of a big bank, cute elevator rides that include some very odd questions, ok so like michaels a law student, ummmmmm idk, yo im such muke trash but malum is my writing game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:34:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4308840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trebleclifford/pseuds/trebleclifford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in theory, elevator music sucks. but calum thinks it might suck just a little less with michael there to listen with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	these little town blues are melting away

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo it's chrispels comin at ya w another lame story  
> yes so this is the fastest i've ever written anything in my entire life  
> ok well probably the second fastest bc i once wrote a 10 page paper in eighth grade in the same amount of time that i wrote this  
> but yes, this is so lame pls don't punch me

“hold the doors!”

a young man with jet black hair, not much older than calum himself, runs panting into the elevator.

“jesus christ, eleven elevators on the ground floor, and the only one that goes to the top is all the way across the lobby,” he breathes out. “michael, by the way. michael clifford. new with the legal department.”

 

calum assumes he but be the new head lawyer. he doesn’t work much with legal, but he knows mark, the old head lawyer, moved to iowa to raise his kids. so he decides he might as well introduce himself, “calum hood. chief exe—“

 

“ceo. i know who you are, man. pretty much everyone in the mid-atlantic does. media has a tough time keeping their eye off you,” michael says.

 

“oh, well, yeah i guess. nice to meet you, michael. if i might ask, what brings you over to marquee national?”

 

“well i had a position lined up hewitt and levi, but they bumped me out for some nerd with three kids, a wife and a mistress.”

 

it was so worded nonchalantly that calum’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “a mistress? how would you possibly know he has a mistress?”

 

“i can read people calum. i . . . can read . . . people,” michael spoke, making exaggerated gestures during pauses.

 

“okay, so read me. right now, let’s go,” calum challenged.

 

“geeze, gimme a minute. i gotta take in your aura,” michael proceeded to look calum up and down for precisely one minute and forty nine seconds, and calum could feel his whole face flush from the eyes continually roaming his body. “got it,” michael concluded. “nearly failed a science in secondary – most likely physics, you never really worked well with merged subjects – yet somehow managed to graduate second in your year, only beat out by some girl who’s probably a surgical intern in either washington or maryland. my guess is maryland. you majored in business and finance at some ivy league school, though you did take a course in photography, something you never felt brave enough to pursue because you figured it would never be financially stable enough to support you. single, haven’t had a date in the past four months – though that’s not what the press says – and now here you are, two year chief executive officer of marquee national bank.”

 

calum couldn’t help but gape as the elevator dinged and michael walked out with a wave, because he had been spot on.

 

\--

 

“okay, since you seem to know everything about me,” calum declared as soon as he and michael entered the elevator the next day, “you will now submit to this extremely detailed questionnaire i made up last night.”

 

“okay, man, shoot,” michael replied.

 

“first, your least favourite book.”

 

“is that a question or a statement?” michael giggled. calum blushed.

 

“answer the damn question, clifford!”

 

“bible.”

 

calum laughed for nearly the rest of the upward trip, leaving only enough time for one more query. “on a scale of one to ten, how much do you enjoy potato salad?”

 

“honestly, cheeks, what the hell kind of questions are these?”

 

“shut up, this is how i judge people’s character, unlike you, mr know-it-all. now rate the tater salad.”

 

“negative seventy three. potato salad is putrid, it’s satan’s vomit, at best. i sincerely cannot believe you could even ask me such a question. you’re a vile creature, cheeks,” and with michael’s response, the elevator binged.

 

“cheeks. you keep calling me cheeks,” calum stated before michael could get off.

 

“yeah, you have chubby little baby cheeks,” michael reached out and pinched calum’s face before he exited the elevator car and headed to his office.

 

calum would be lying if he said the skin michael touched hadn’t become much more heated than the rest of his face.

 

\--

nearly a week had passes since calum had first met michael in the elevator, and he’d practically become smitten with the young man. he did, however, still have a few more questions to ask.

“do you print or write in cursive, pen or pencil, and if pen, blue or black?”

 

“cheeks, if i wrote cursive, i’m pretty sure you’d have an easier time deciphering the rosetta stone. so print, pen because it glides more smoothly, and neither. i only write in red.”

 

“you’re telling me you write everything, even official documents, in red pen? is that legal?”

 

“obviously it’s legal, i haven’t been convicted of a felony. yet. anyway, no, i don’t sign shit in red when it’s not recommended, like for checks or credit card applications. but when i was an undergraduate, i wrote my senior thesis entirely in red pen. it doesn’t get as muddled as black ink when you read it, and blue’s just a shit colour to write with. so i use red.”

 

“okay then, mr fugitive, very important question. muy importante. do you kill a spider, or trap it and let it go?”

 

“well if it were a black widow, i think it would end up killing me first, but if it’s small enough i’ll get it in a glass and let it run free. then, of course, i’d destroy the glass,” michael said, making calum chuckle.

 

“a bit excessive, but fine, fine. last one for today, it’s super serious; how, sir, do you feel about lady bugs?”

 

“how do you feel about going out on a date? with me, i mean.” now calum really wasn’t expecting that kind of answer. “sorry, i uh, just kind of blurted that out. but yeah, um if you want i can pick you up, like this saturday or something, we can go to this restaurant on hundred seventeenth and linden, i take my parents there whenever they visit, pick up some food. or you could meet me there if you want, whatever’s convenient, i—“

 

“yes. um, yeah, i get off at seven, i can meet you there at like eight, if that’s okay?”

 

michael smiled at calum, not wide but just reassuring enough to let him know he shouldn’t be nervous. “great, i’ll email you the address, i guess? i would text but i’m in the middle of switching plans so…”

 

“saturday then?” calum asked.

 

“saturday.” michael confirmed.

**Author's Note:**

> ok this it totally set up to just end here but it's meant to have an infinite amount of succeeding parts (lol no probs just like 1-3) so yeah expect some more shitty shit here
> 
> ALSO follow me on tumblr pls @goodn00dle bc i'm just as lame, if not lamer, there as i am here


End file.
